


Feet of Clay

by waterlit



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Angst, Family, Forbidden Love, Sibling Incest, You Have Been Warned, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-23 00:44:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11978526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterlit/pseuds/waterlit
Summary: This is how they stumble onto the road leading to redemption.





	Feet of Clay

In the darkness, Lenalee pushes back the covers and sits up. She looks at Komui lying beside her, his face so calm and peaceful in repose, and runs a finger gently across his cheek.

She leans over Komui's sleeping form, pressing her nose into his hair.

He stirs, and in her heart, anxiety flares. 

What, what if, he wakes and sees her? What if he voices his regret, what if he says the words that have lain long dormant between them, the words Komui has been trying to say for weeks now, the words that catch in his throat every time he tries to say them?

She knows the words he's contemplating— _Lenalee, let's put a stop to this_ —she's seen the sentiment reflected in his eyes as they tumble into bed, seen the desperation and pain flashing across his face as they lie under the blanket in the afterglow, can feel Komui whispering the selfsame words into his pillow when he thinks she's not watching.

Her sins are dredged out of the dark and laid bare before her, as numerous and unforgiving as the stubble upon his chin and she wishes, prays even, for a night of peace bereft of unholy longing. But the clock ticks on and the night flies by, and wishing for the unattainable is but pure folly.

The shadows weave around her amid the flickering darkness, and she unwillingly withdraws her hand away from Komui.

She glides silently out of the hollow room, and find that's she has left a bit of herself behind—maybe a fraction of her heart, maybe a slice of her soul, maybe her whole true self, but she doesn't look back. She has started on this road to purgatory, and she wonders again whether she will ever turn back to the road that looks west, to Eden, to redemption, to holiness and justice and all things good.

She has crossed the line and now she has to run, panting, winded, but never stopping, from all things that will lead towards the light, that were dark in the beginning, but are now painted gleaming bright.

And she runs, and she runs, and her footsteps run from her; they run, and they run.

Her footsteps recede in the dank corridors, dancing with the inky darkness. A thousand years ago, there might have been men and women who walked along the same path she now treads. But now, Central governs with an iron fist, and all who stray from the set path must be burned as heretics, forever relegated to the burning fires of the dark and the deep. Damned to brimstone and sulphur, to eternal damnation.

Back in his room, Komui's eyes flicker open. He looks towards the door and sighs.

In the darkness, his heart roars, and he wonders why Lenalee couldn't feel his leaping heartbeats. He sits up in bed, slight pressure still on his cheek. It is a sin to love her the way he does; he _should not, can not, may not_ , but he does, and the pain of it churns within him and rattles against his ribs.

* * *

When they meet again, it is morning, and on his face is a kindly smile, tinted with the right shade of concern. All his emotions are under check, and his glance is spotless as fresh linen, like the sky after a bout of teary tears.

He asks, all brotherly concern and anxious soul, "Lenalee, have you had breakfast?" 

"Yes, I've eaten." 

"Lenalee, I—we—tonight—" Komui can't bring himself to continue. He shades his head and tries to smile.

She smiles too, uncertain, but at that moment Allen appears and drags her away to intervene in the tenth fight Kanda and Lavi have started this week.

* * *

Reever doesn't think to snoop at first.

It all begins with the coffee.

When Lenalee walks in with her tray one day, Reever sees Komui's eyes flash. Reever dismisses the observation as an empirical example of the Chief's well-known sister complex. But it happens again late one night, when he finds the two locked in each other's unending arms, half-melted into shadows under the black night sky.

(Then he thinks to snoop.)

He watches from far corners and stands behind ancient pillars, always looking out for signs of that ebony-dark hair. Sometimes he sees _him_ , and sometimes he sees _her_ , but they rarely appear together. He thinks himself delusional, not quite right in the head—it's the coffee overdose, really, he tells himself when the clock chimes midnight—and almost gives up his vigil altogether.

But the winds of fate are unpredictable.

Reever catches the duo late one night, illuminated by the bright moonlight. They are kissing, hands wandering. Reever almost retches and gives the show away.

There Komui is, tall and imposing against the window, and buried deep in his chest, under his white lab coat, are Lenalee's hands, dancing, dancing, dancing into hell on earth. Their lips work against each other, sliding, pushing, grasping, and they are woefully ignorant of the world around them.

Reever fumbles his way back into the cold shadows and prays for deliverance from sin and misery of man's own making. But his eyes do not deceive him, and he hides stricken amidst the deepening dark.

When morning flits by, Reever marches into Komui's office, the moral aggressiveness of justice writ large in his face.

"Supervisor…" And he accuses Komui of all the dastardly deeds he has committed, throwing them at the Chief with remarkably deadly aim.

But Komui is intelligent. He feigns ignorance, dangles exuberance and plays the mad-scientist-card, sing-song voice rumbling in the miniature cavern, but Reever throws him to earth and fishes out the truth.

"Am I, or am I not, telling the truth?" He fixes Komui with a stern glare…and feels vindicated in the resulting silence.

"You must end this," Reever finally says. "Central will not forgive both you and Lenalee if they find out. And such Acts are Immoral."

Komui nods, broken and old. "I will end it. I have a duty to the exorcists, and I cannot endanger Lenalee's life like that. I do know this."

When Reever leaves the room, he leaves behind an exhausted Komui with his head between his arms and long fingers fiddling-twiddling anxiously. A broken Komui, whose inner mechanisms of action have been torn and totally destroyed by Reever's simple words.

_I must end this._

* * *

Komui thinks that it would have been better if he had remained strong and not fallen prey to the artful designs of his own desires.

When he stirs his coffee he can see Lenalee's swirling hair in the undissolved coffee powder as it twirls in the vortex created by the spoon.

Lenalee steals into his room that night, wrapping her cold arms around him and he feels a thousand miles away from her heart of hearts. Whence had her strange desires—and oh, his too!—come?

He stirs and presses her shivering body to his chest and inhales her smell. There is the fragrance of roses sleeping under the night breeze, and the wafting aroma of cinnamon and coffee and chocolate. There is also a hint of perfume, mixed with a dash of soap, minty, sweet. He will miss this.

He presses his lips to her neck just below her ear.

She trembles in his embrace.

"Lenalee, Lenalee…"

"Brother?"

"This has to be the last time. I cannot—we cannot go on. Can you understand why?"

She looks at him, and the pain in her eyes shatters his heart.

He presses his warm lips to her marble forehead, and she shivers in spite of herself. Drawing her closer, he rocks her gently on his lap and prays, wishes, that they had never given voice to their desires.

"Kiss me," Lenalee says, and arches her neck towards her brother.

"Lenalee," Komui says, and lets desire reign over him. He lingers in that veritable utopia, drinking deep of pale violets and champagne and the indomitable memory of home sweet home.

Fingers travel where they shouldn't, and the candle flickers as they slip off their garments and slide between the sheets. For now, they will fulfil each other, for the morning will bring separation and repentance beyond the ends of the world.

There will in due time be redemption for the lost sheep such as they are. Or so Komui hopes.

When the sun creeps into sky, treading grey waters behind dark clouds, Komui opens his eyes and shakes Lenalee gently till she too opens her sleep-riddled eyes.

He holds her close to his warm chest, and feels the gentle thrum of her heartbeat against his palm.

"This is the end of all our sins," he tells her gently, reminding her of their agreement to walk along the path leading back to redemption.

"I don't—want—this to happen—" Lenalee touches his lips.

His lips crush hers again, in a stronghold that she cannot fight against, she lets his tongue take the lead, and then it ends.

He leaps out of bed and leaves her cold and alone, and she almost cries herself to sleep again.

* * *

When they meet in the corridors again the next day, it's all Komui can do to stay calm and smile his big-brother smile. "Lenalee, did you sleep well?"

She presses the tears back and gives a watery smile. "Yes, Brother."

Reever, passing by, is struck by how chillingly polite they are to each other. But that's how he knows for sure: _then and there the story ends._

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on FFN in June 2010.


End file.
